


The Gift

by waitingtobedistributed



Series: Hidden flowers [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lingerie, Sherlolly - Freeform, daddy dom, mollock, sherlolly smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingtobedistributed/pseuds/waitingtobedistributed
Summary: Hands behind her back, she bit at her lip. “Do you like my new lingerie, Daddy? I’m wearing it especially for you.”Unapologetic Sherlolly smut in the same universe as A Kink in the Armour.





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. 
> 
> We own nothing. We regret nothing.
> 
> A/N: This scene takes place between adults in a consensual, loving relationship. No references to age play are made or intended. Set in the same universe as A Kink in the Armour (part 1 of this series), at some future point.

 

“And then,” Sherlock, recounting his Mind Palace recreation of the Ricoletti case grinned at his girlfriend with undisguised delight, “you told John, ‘ _Isn’t he observant now that Daddy’s gone.’_ ”

_Daddy._

Molly’s brain stumbled over the word and stalled for a full ten seconds. _Daddy._ His voice had wavered – a tone that had been edged with amusement vibrated in a lower than usual bass when he said the word, his high cheekbones faintly stained with a blush. Lashes flickering, his eyes had gone sultry for half a heartbeat. Subtle changes, barely visible, and to anyone but her meaningless. Yet Molly understood.

Oh God.

Not something she’d ever considered as part of their play before, but the very idea that Sherlock would want that from her, to push one step further into something so sublimely erotic caused her own pale skin to flush crimson. Startled by her sudden arousal, she could neither ignore nor fully respond to it.

“Is that how you think of me sometimes?” The question wasn’t articulate or clever, but merely the best that Molly’s short circuited brain could manage.

Sherlock either misunderstood or was too unsure to embrace her meaning, his sea green eyes lit up all the same. A lovely boyish smile spread across his sensuous mouth, “Not usually. Though I have to admit, you made for a very attractive young man. So much so,” he flipped her over and pinned her to the bed with his splayed, naked, body, toying with her pink hole, “that I think tonight I’ll have you on your hands and knees with my cock in your arse.”

Molly squealed, laughing breathlessly as he manhandled her into position. Face down on the bed, her legs were forced apart by Sherlock’s kneeling between them: one hand worked her open, one pinched and played with her clit.

It wasn’t until later, his semen still drying on her thighs, that she realised there was a word was still floating in the air like the echoes of his violin.

She lay awake in the twisted sheets, her lover at peace by her side, an idea – a gift for him – taking form.

 

~*~

 

On the third step that led to his flat, Sherlock caught the scent of her perfume. Light and floral, girlish. Soft and feminine like Molly.

His heart soared as his pace quickened, taking the remaining steps two at a time.

Not in his living room, nor his kitchen, Sherlock walked the short length of the hall to his bedroom and pushed the already ajar door open.

The thing about Molly is that she’s always so surprising. He pitied the men who had come and gone from her life without ever realising what a remarkable woman she was. A fascinating mind, perceptive to a degree that almost matched his own. Her ability to surprise him seemed immeasurable. For there she sat on his bed, wearing a black translucent baby doll nightgown, her hair in a ponytail tied with matching ribbon, legs curled beneath her.

His instincts were torn between ravishing her there and then, and falling to his knees before her in gratitude.

“Welcome home, Daddy. I’ve missed you.” Her smiling eyes – dark with desire – dipped low, then glanced up at him provocatively through thick lashes. She touched a finger to her lips, licked it with the tip of her tongue. One lacy strap of her nightgown had slipped down her arm, leaving her shoulder bare, and through the gauzy silk he could see her bare breasts, the aroused tips just begging to be bitten.

Molly climbed from the bed to show herself off, carefully taking in his reactions.  Already his greedy eyes were devouring her.

On tiptoes she walked toward him, turning slowly when she was at an arm’s distance. The short nightgown barely reached the tops of her thighs but rose higher when she twirled, and he caught sight of matching panties that clung to the curves of her cute little bottom, barely concealing what lay beneath. There was a flash, a tiny hint of something jewelled nestled snugly between her cheeks.

Hands behind her back, she bit at her lip. “Do you like my new lingerie, Daddy? I’m wearing it especially for you.”

“Yes, Princess. I do.” Sherlock murmured his answer, watching her small, perky breasts bounce as her pirouette ended. He could hear the tremor in his voice that betrayed his excitement at this wonderful turn of events. _Molly. Beautiful, brilliant Molly_. Softly, his lips met hers, a quick press, nothing more, yet it was heavy, laden with the promise of what was to come.

_Heavenly creature_ , he mouthed soundlessly and was rewarded with a sun-beam bright smile.

Sherlock circled her, appraising her body with admiration, letting one hand drift over her sweet breasts, her muscles rippling beneath his gentle touch. All at once he felt perspiration prickle at his neck and spine, his face flushing, his mouth had gone dry. It was all he could do to gather enough command of himself to shrug his coat and jacket off and toss them onto a nearby chair.

“Sweetheart,” he said as evenly as he could, “I’d like you to bend down over the edge of the bed and lift your skirt so that I can see what you’re hiding beneath it. Keep your arms stretched out in front of you, feet as far apart as you can. Go on, do as Daddy says.”

With a practiced ease, Molly rested her hips on the mattress and draped herself over the bed, her body hinged at the waist. She grasped the hem of her gown, slowly raising it up to present herself to Sherlock, then took the position she’d been instructed to hold.

His warm hands smoothed over her backside, cupping and fondling, squeezing and teasing, touching her in the most private of places.

“What’s this then?” His thumb pressed against the sapphire base of the plug she was wearing, shifting it inside her in a way that made her tense and shiver. Oh, how Sherlock wished it was he filling her plump bottom.

“I wanted to be pretty for you Daddy.”   

“Is that all, little one?” Sherlock tried for stern but failed completely, unable to contain the bottled lightning striking in his heart because she was his, only his.

“No, Daddy,” Molly said in a voice dripping with a flirtatious and devastating innocence. “I wanted to be ready so that you could take me any way you wanted to.”

“Presumptuous little girl,” Sherlock scolded, his fingers brushing the seam of her open body through the silk, his thumb rubbing circles around her plugged hole. “Have you touched yourself? Or are you this wet just from thinking about what I’m going to do to you? Hmm?” Molly’s shocked gasp when he sharply tapped her clit brought a devilish smile to his face. Against her rounded flesh Sherlock pressed his erection, humming “I should punish you for teasing your Daddy so. Tie you down and rip that nightgown from you, whip you until you cry. But then maybe that was your plan all along,” he considered. “Though I confess, it would be difficult to deny myself the pleasure of your body, I love you this way, so desperate for a hard fucking.”

Molly whined, wriggling against him, “Please Daddy, I’ve tried to be good, but I need you.”

“Need what?” Sherlock stroked her pussy through her wet panties, his fingers curling, working their way deeper, his hot mouth descending to her neck, “Say it or you’ll get nothing.”

“Please Daddy, may I have your fat cock inside of me?”

“Good Molly, say it again.”

“I need it, Daddy. I need your big, thick cock fucking me so that I know whose baby girl I am,” she gasped out, imploring him to take possession of her.

Sherlock grasped her hand and guided it between her body and the bed, telling her, “Put your hand inside your panties and touch your sweet little cunt. I want you to feel how wet you are for me. Shameless girl,” he tutted, “asking for my big cock.”

Molly moaned, pressing and teasing herself as the heat of Sherlock’s body left her while he undressed.

“Both hands now,” he ordered when he settled back between her splayed legs, “don’t neglect your tits, Molly, there’s a good girl.”

She arched her back, and as she plucked and rolled her nipple Sherlock palmed her other breast. His cock, sliding over her cheeks, found its way into her cleft.

“Do you do this when you’re alone?”

“ _Ooooooh_ , Daddy,” her breath hitched.

“Do you enjoy it, Molly? Touching yourself without my permission? Tell me or you’ll go over my knee.” 

“Y-Yes,” she almost sobbed, her angelic face aflame.

“Even though you know I’ll punish you for it, you wicked little girl?” Sherlock’s free hand wound into her satin soft ponytail, pulling her to his chest so that he could bite and suck at the fine flesh of her throat. 

“I can’t help myself, Daddy.” Molly pushed back on to his cock, arousal burning in her belly, flames coiling so intensely she could barely breathe, “I get so turned on when I think about the things you do to me.”

Sherlock’s tongue worried her tender skin, the flared head of his prick nudging at the gap between her legs, one large hand still spanning her breast, kneading the gentle swell, sweeping over the hardened tip.

“And you’re so beautiful when you’re aroused. I should keep you this way,” he baited her. “Would you like that? Kept this way so that you’re always so eager to please, always on the edge but never fulfilled?”

“Daddy, no,” she pleaded in desperation, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Maybe next time we’ll use the vibrating plug and I’ll bind your hands so that you can’t end your own misery.”

“Daddy, please!”

A smug smile tugged at the corners of Sherlock’s sinful mouth, “Very well. I’ll let you have it. How could I refuse when you’ve asked so nicely.”

Molly whimpered softly when he forced her down on to the bed once more. Roughly, he pulled her panties down her legs and threw them aside, exposing her wet cunt and plugged arse. Sherlock then whispered, his nose at her ear, his breath on her neck, “You have my permission to come on my cock so long as you do exactly as I say,” that she must ask first was already understood. “Any misbehaving and I’ll stop everything and you’ll finish me off with your mouth. Leave your pretty negligee on then get up on the bed when I tell you to. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy. Use me anyway you want to,” Molly’s voice had gone shaky with need. She knelt there waiting, while Sherlock settled himself in the centre of the bed, her cunt pulsing hotly with every heartbeat.

“I’ll use you like the plaything that you are, sweetheart, because I own you.”

His Princess moaned.

“Come, little girl,” he finally said, gesturing to his lap, “I think it’s time you gave Daddy another kiss.”

Obediently, she climbed up and straddled his hips, her wet folds resting on his hard shaft. Molly leaned forward and let her breasts fall onto his body, the taut peaks rubbing against the soft fabric of her nightgown, even greater friction when she writhed against his strong chest. As they kissed, she slid up along the length of him and back down again. Her Daddy’s hands in her hair pulled it free from the ribbon in a cascade of auburn silk.

“Molly, the things you do to me,” Sherlock growled against her lips, and took her in a fierce and passionate kiss that deepened when he gripped the back of her neck, his tongue insistent, demanding, savagely taking what he wanted. So full of lust, he could no longer contain it. Now with a hand on her hip, he bucked up catching her clit with the swollen head of his cock.

“Dirty girl,” he berated, smiling despite himself. Sitting on his cock, her hair spilling over her shoulders, tousled, untamed, eyes gone wild, Molly was a picture of wanton beauty.

She keened with the sheer carnality of his words, “Anything for you, Daddy.”

His hands – _God, his perfect hands –_ found their way beneath the barely there scrap of silk that obscured her from his full view and offered only tantalising glimpses of the body given over to him. Sherlock touched everywhere, he denied her nothing, drawing lewd words of incitement from her gasping lips.

Between her legs, Sherlock’s shaft parted her and the head of his cock found her entrance. Possessively pressing into her, he told her, “Ride me.”

Molly mewled obscenely in anticipation when his hips canted upward and he pushed himself inside her slick body. For a moment she stilled as he stretched her, but she’d been given an order that, in truth, she could wait no longer to submit to.

“Fuck. You’re so tight,” his lashes fluttered closed when she lifted herself up and gently came back down on him again. On one side of her vaginal wall the ribbed plug she wore filled her, serving to narrow the other. She felt every ridge, every throb of Sherlock’s thick cock thrusting into her.

“I should plug you every time,” the words were panted out deliriously, “what a perfect little girl you are, so considerate of your Daddy’s needs.”

His hand stroked over her belly and Molly leaned back, fingers clutching at his thighs in a way that would leave ten crescent shaped bruises in their wake. _There!_ He found that aching little spot that had her screaming out in blissful pleasure.  

Her rhythm quickened, earning Molly praise from her Daddy’s plush lips, “That’s it, little one, so good, so good..”

Sherlock urged her on, desperation growing stronger and stronger with every deep intrusion of his cock into her body.

With ever louder whining moans Molly rode him as hard as she could, her thighs trembling with exertion, her hand joining his at her clit urgently rubbing, “Please Daddy, let me come.”

“No,” Sherlock gasped, “not yet.”

“Please,” she babbled over and over, mindlessly.

In one fluid upward sweep, Sherlock flipped them over so that Molly was on her back. He couldn’t last, he just couldn’t, not when Molly called him Daddy over and over, not when her sweet, tight, pussy pulled and squeezed at his cock. Rutting into her like a wild animal he grunted out, “Look at me. Tell me that your mine.”

“I’m yours Daddy. Please, please..”

It was more than he could stand. “Now, baby girl, come,” he bid her.

His mouth latched onto her breast through damp silk, scraping her rosy nipple with his teeth.

Hot breaths clawed at the back of her throat. Voiceless gasps gave way to unrestrained screams of ecstasy that brought tears to Molly’s eyes.

Sherlock was unrelenting, his mouth sucking, his hands gathering her wrists together holding her down. Inside her body, penetrated by warm steel and hard flesh, she felt the orgasm that had been building since his first touch explode in wave after wave of convulsive sweet release. Already, she was floating away on a cloud of dopamine and oxytocin.

A hot pulse of cum inside her followed only seconds later. Sherlock’s tender words spoke of how dear she was, how loved he felt.

 

~*~

 

“You guessed?” Sherlock stretched out like a contented cat against the rumpled pillows. Naked, his cock still wet, he was a picture of gloriously debauched contentment.

“Bit obvious.” Molly’s quip earned her a good-natured smack on the arse, a soft kiss and an accusation that she was nothing but a minx.

“Did you have fun?” her cheeky grin lit up her whole face, the apples of her cheeks flushing prettily. She propped herself up on one elbow to look down into Sherlock’s eyes.

She hadn’t slipped into her quite space afterward, but then he hadn’t expected her to. She’d done this for _him_ , marvellous girl that she was.

“Absolutely,” he returned her fond smile, distractedly reaching out to tuck a long strand of hair behind her ear – all the better to gaze at her beautiful smile, radiant in the afterglow – and cupped her chin is his hand. Definitely something he wanted to explore further – though only if Molly did too. “But the important question is did you?”

She hummed. _Yes_. “It was different. I felt naughty. A tiny bit kinky.”

“Kinky?” he laughed, “That’s saying something coming from a woman who once buggered me with a strap on moulded from a cast of my own cock!”

“That was one time,” she protested, looking scandalised. “Besides, you weren’t complaining. In fact, as I recall, you quite enjoyed it.”

“Would have been wasteful not to,” he joked, eyes crinkled at the corners – Molly’s heart fluttered at the sight.

He pulled her close: at rest in his arms, Sherlock held her tightly, kissing his now sleepy pathologist softly.

“You owe me a spanking too. Don’t think I’ll forget,” she mumbled into his skin.

“For?”

“A thank you.”

Oh. “Tomorrow, dear heart.”

Sherlock ran his fingers through her long hair, happy to just enjoy the delicate weight of her pressed to his side as they both drifted away. At length he said, “You’ve made my life so happy. I could never have imagined.”

But Molly was already asleep, not snoring but purring sweetly as all soft Kittens did, leaving Sherlock there to lie awake wondering how on earth he ever got so lucky.


End file.
